Loki-Verse
by Shadow-Walker-Locke
Summary: When Sam is sixteen, John Winchester pushes his son too far. In the middle of the night, Sam runs away with only a duffle bag and a wad of stolen money. After accidently stumbling upon our favourite Trickster-slash-Archangel, he is quickly named as Loki's Equal. Ten years later, the duo meets back up with Dean and John, and shit hits the fan.


**My mash-up of the three Loki-Verse instalments.**

**PART ONE**

John slammed his fist on the table. "Hell no! Don't even start on me, Sam!" he bellowed, silently glad that Dean wasn't in the room. His eldest son was very protective of his younger brother, and even being the little soldier that he was he still stood up for Sam.

Sam glowered. "And why not? Can't you just leave us here while you move from state to state?" he asked with narrowed eyes, "I don't want to be a Hunter, Dad. I want to go to school, and have fun with my friends and earn a scholarship to Stanford! I don't want to be on the run all the time because of something that happened almost sixteen years ago!"

The argument happened almost daily. Sam would try to get their father to let him stay in a certain area so that he could continue school, and his father would firmly tell him no. Normally Sam wouldn't argue his fathers word, but tonight was the 364th time they'd had this argument, and Sam was fed up of always being ignored. He knew that whatever Dean wanted he got, and all because he was a good son. Sam never got anything, because he knew his father blamed him for his mothers' murder.

"We are not staying here" John bellowed, striking Sam across the face with his left hand. Sam had not expected it, and landed on the linoleum floor with a cry of pain. He could feel the bruise creeping up his face. John had never struck him before, and Sam never thought he would have. But apparently he was wrong, and his father truly gave no damns about him.

Sam glared at his so-called father. "I'm not leaving again!" he shouted, rising from the floor. John glared harshly at him, raising a hand in warning.

The older Hunter had been at the bar all night, after finishing a case involving a werewolf. He had drunk himself near blind, but knew exactly what he was doing to his youngest son. He also thought that he was beating the rebelliousness out of the kid.

But he wasn't. Instead he was just fuelling Sams' anger and hatred towards the older Winchester fifty-fold for each strike.

Sam stood up with the intention of fighting back, only to be clocked by John, once again landing on the floor. This time, he landed in an awkward position, shattering the bones in his right arm. He cried out, but John did not stop. He landed a kick to Sams' stomach, and smirked at the painful wail that escaped.

"You even think about going against me again, and it'll be even worse. Ya hear me?" he taunted, landing one more kick, this one to his sons head, unknowingly causing severe internal bleeding.

John left the motel, slamming the door behind him. Sam tried to stand, but fell back with a cry of agony. He could feel his cracked ribs from the kicks, and his head hurt terribly. He finally managed to stand without falling ten minutes later, and immediately reached for his fathers' duffle bag.

John always carried a wad of five thousand in his bag, in case of emergencies. Sam grabbed it and stuffed it in his pockets. He then picked up his own duffle and walked out of the motel and into the night.

**PAGE BREAK**

It was several hours before Sam collapsed in an alley way.

His ears and nose had begun to bleed, and he knew immediately that he was in trouble. But he refused to go to a hospital. Refused because Samuel Winchester would have a file, and the nurses would call his father due to him being under age.

So he sat there, his back against the yellow brick walls of an old abandoned church. His eyes were a bit blurry, but he shook it off as he rose from the ground. He climbed through a window and into the church, knowing that he couldn't let the cops find him. At least not just yet. He would be dead first.

Sam collapsed on one of the pews, his bag beside him. He closed his eyes, a sob escaping his lips. He felt a tear roll down his cheek, and the pain took hold once more, causing another sob, this one of betrayal. He hated his father for what he had done. He hated Dean for always being the Golden Son. Just once he wanted to be the loved one.

"Hey there, Kiddo, don't cry," he heard a voice say. He opened his eyes quickly to see a man just a tad shorter than he was with blond hair and blue eyes sitting beside him, watching him with a calculating stare.

Sam blinked, trying to make the pain go away. "Go away," he muttered, looking away from the man. The other huffed, but continued on in a soft voice. "Do you need me to take you to a hospital?" he asked.

"Just let me die," Sam answered. The other man raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to die?" he asked. "No," Sam confessed, "but it's better than the hospital calling my father."

The man looked confused. "Why would you not want them to call him?" he asked. "Who do you think did this to me?" Sam snarked. The other mans eyes darkened considerably. "What's your name, Kid?" he asked.

"Sam," was the reply he was given. The man rolled his eyes. "Full name, Trippy."

"Winchester," was whispered, and the mans eyes widened. "You're the kid of John Winchester," he said, and Sam looked at him. "Are you-" the man shook his head. "Names Gabriel. You may know me as the Pagan god Loki."

Sam felt his eyes go wide, and Gabriel sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to heal you," he said, placing a hand on Sams' forehead. The pain was suddenly gone, and Sam looked at the god with wide eyes.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"You're in the Church of Gabriel, and my name's Gabriel…" he trailed off as Sam seemed to get it. "You're the Archangel!" he asked, astounded, "I didn't think angels were real!"

Gabriel smiled. "Just call me Loki, Moose." He said. "Moose?" Sam asked, confused. Loki chuckled. "You're _way_ too tall to be natural, so therefore, Moose."

This seemed to appease Sam. "Why would you save me? Aren't you a renowned Trickster god?" he asked. Loki nodded. "But I'm also an Archangel, and I enjoy healing Pure Souls. Your soul seems to be more pure, more innocent, than most souls, but yet also has a dark edge to it. The dark edge that most tricksters have. Pure intentions with deadly or dangerous repercussions. How would you like to be a Trickster?"

Sam gaped at him, not knowing what to say to the trickster. Then he thought about it; hadn't he always wanted someone who cared about him, someone who didn't see him as a waste of space? He looked at Loki, and the god barely had time to react before the sixteen year old was hugging him tightly.

Loki had missed being hugged. The last one to hug him had been Lucifer, over five millennia ago. Michael was way too stuck up to even look at his brother, and when he had arrived on earth no one stayed around long enough to give a simple hug.

So of course the angel returned the embrace. He felt the tears from the teen on his shirt, and rubbed the boys' hair affectionately. He couldn't describe it, but the boy gave him a warm feeling, as if they were destined to meet.

They pulled apart several minutes later. "The spell I'm performing on you to make you a Trickster will add you to my Pantheon. Odin will probably hate me, but whatever. It will also turn you immortal on your twenty second birthday. You'll have all the powers I have, excluding the angelic parts. You will also begin to have an unnatural fondness for sweets.

Sam listened in rapt attention. He couldn't explain it, but he trusted the trickster. He felt a safety that he had never felt before while he was with him, and he liked the feeling of having someone there for him.

"You know, you're one lucky duck. Tricksters usually roam in pairs, but I've been alone for a _long_ time. I'm happy you turned up!" Loki smiled, stroking the teens brown hair.

The two embraced each other again, and Sam finally felt like he belonged somewhere.

**PAGE BREAK**

It was several years later when Sam saw John and Dean again. Bobby was with them, but Sam held no more love for the old hunter either.

He was posing as a college student, and Loki as a janitor. It was the night of the third prank, and Sam quickly created a young girl out of thin air. He and Loki watched with giggles as the old professor tried to have sex with her, and ended up taking a nose dive out of his office window.

Sam walked up to the illusion and snapped his fingers. The girl disappeared without a sound, and Loki smirked. "Well done, young grasshopper!" he joked.

The newest trickster grinned before teleporting himself to their apartment nearby. Loki was behind him in an instant, pulling the taller man against his chest.

"I love it when you're cruel," Loki whispered in Sams' ear, making the latter moan. Loki kissed along his mates jaw line, smirking as he saw the bulge in Sams pants grow. He snapped his fingers, and they were both naked in an instant.

**PAGE BREAK**

It was only the next day when Loki told him about meeting his brother and father. Apparently, John, Dean, and Bobby were hunting them without even knowing it.

Sam watched them from his part-time job as bartender, trying to keep his identity hidden from the three hunters. He, unlike Loki, couldn't change his features. It was the angelic side of Loki's DNA that allowed him to do so.

He knew he was screwed though. Bobby had thanked him for his drink, and gotten a good look at his face. The old hunter froze, staring at him with wide eyes and going pale. John and Dean were beside him, arguing over what was wreaking havoc in the town and didn't notice anything.

Sam quickly walked off, pouring Loki another Purple Nurple. The sweet alcohol was one of Sams' creations, and was very popular around town. Sam could still feel Bobby burning a hole in the back of his head, and turned to see all three hunters staring at him with wide eyes.

Loki noticed and smirked. "What they don't know is that while they've been here, I've messed with their computer, car, and weapons," he whispered to Sam.

The latter looked at Loki quickly before bursting into laughter, causing the hunters to be confused. He poured himself a Nurple and toasted with Loki on their sense of humour.

"Hey, Moose!" Peter Martins greeted as he sat beside Loki. He was part of their little trio, although not a trickster. He was a normal human, and had no knowledge of the supernatural world around him. With Sam and Loki being in town for nearly a year, Pete had become a good friend. He was just a bit taller than Loki, with black hair with orange tips and dark blue eyes. He was constantly dressed in his emo clothes, which scared off almost everyone around him.

"Hey there Pete," Sam greeted, pouring the man his usual tequila shot and handing him the salt and limes. "Had a busy day?"

Peter groaned. "You've got no idea! Miss Torsiol assigned ten pages on Pagan Gods for tomorrow!" he banged his head on the table after swallowing his shot. Sam and Loki chuckled. "Need help?" Loki asked. "Please!" Peter groaned from the bar table.

Sam went to serve another customer as Loki helped out their friend in need. Being considered a Pagan god, he was sure to know almost everything.

"Sam?" Bobby called, wariness in his voice. Sam turned to look at Bobby, a scowl on his face. "Bobby Singer, why did you have to recognize me?" he asked.

John, who sat right beside Bobby, glared at him. "Why are you here?" he asked with a hiss. Dean and Bobby both looked shocked at his tone, but Sam smirked evilly, causing all three to become nervous.

"Why, I live here, of course!" Sam said, "Have since I left!"

And it was partially true. The home they lived in had always been their base camp, but they rarely had been seen in town till that year.

"That he has, the Little Angel!" and old, womanly voice entered. Sam smiled warmly as their neighbour sat at the other corner beside Bobby.

"Hey Mrs. Jones," Sam greeted, kissing the old woman's cheek. "You don't usually come in here, do you need something?" he asked.

Mrs. Jones nodded. "I'm heading to New Orleans for the weekend, Dearie. You know how Brutus gets when I'm not around!" she patted his cheek. "I was wondering if you could watch him for me this weekend. I know that Dog and he get along quite well!"

The Hunters all looked extremely confused as they spoke to each other. "Of course, Mrs. Jones! It isn't a problem at all. I'll swing on by to pick him up when my shift ends, alright?" he asked the old woman.

She nodded with a giant smile. "Thank you, Sammy Boy! You and your Friend are a Godsend for sure!" she rose from her seat and walked back outside. Sam sighed, and took a Mars Bar from his pocket. Loki cried out indignantly as he took a bite. "None for me?" he whined. Sam rolled his eyes and threw one to his mate. "Thaaaaank you!" Loki said as he devoured it.

John slammed his fist down to gain his attention. "What do you want, Winchester?" Sam drawled, something Peter had taught him and Loki both to do.

"You're coming back with us, and that's an order!" Dean nodded his head feverently as his father spoke to Sam, just like the good little soldier he was. "Fuck you," Sam said, taking another bite of his chocolate bar.

Deans' eyes widened. "You have to listen to him, Sammy!" he said, "It's Dad!"

Sam snorted. "Sergeant is more like it. But he's never been my father, and you'll never be my brother." He said, glaring.

"That's some mighty fine hatred you got there, Sammy Kid!" a feminine voice cheered, and Sam smiled widely, scaring the hunter slightly, and turned to embrace the main female figure in his life.

"Kali!" he laughed, hugging her from across the bar. He released her, looking around. "Is Ganesh with you? How about Baldur, Odin, Osiris, and Fenris?"

The hunters' eyes grew wide when they realized he was talking to a Pagan goddess. They reached for their weapons, but stopped as they remembered they were in a room full of humans.

"Why the hell are you talkin' to and about a bunch of Pagans, ya idjit?" Bobby hissed lowly. Loki ran on up, grinning.

Kali narrowed her eyes. "Loki," she said, "you owe me a lot of fruit." She muttered. Dean looked very confused. "Um, mind explaining what's going on, Sammy?" he asked his 'brother'.

Just then, all the other gods Sam had mentioned and then some walked in. "What is this, a Pagan convention?" Sam asked, throwing his arms in the air. "Loki, I think we need a bigger house!"

Loki nodded sadly. "That we do, Moose, that we do."

**PART TWO**

Loki and Sam looked at each other, and smirked. The three hunters at the bar looked really uncomfortable then, as they now had seven Pagan Gods staring at them, eyes void of all emotion.

"To answer your question, Vali," Odin said in his deep octave of a voice, using Sams Pagan name, "yes, this is a convention. We have a meeting to attend to, and we shall _not_ be using your home for said meeting. It is not neutral ground, and therefore unbecoming for use."

Loki and Sam looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Well, are we invited?" Loki asked, a smirk still plastered on his face.

This time it was Baldur who spoke, a smirk on his face and in his voice, "No, two renowned Party Animals like yourselves are not invited. We are only here to inform you that we will be out of reach for the better part of the month while we settle over a new treaty."

Kali kissed Sams cheek, and Sam heard Dean spit out a little bit of beer as she did so. "Did she just-" he heard the blond ask, and was shushed by John, who was trying (and failing) to sneak his gun from his jeans.

"Well, Lo," Sam said as the gods left again, "at least we won't have to renovate!"

Loki snorted, taking another bite from his Mars Bar. Sam poured another tequila shot for Peter, who was staring at Loki like he was God reincarnated due to his overall knowledge on Pagan gods. "See you in Sociology tomorrow?" the boy asked, and Sam smiled. "Sure thing!"

Singer cleared his throat. Sam grabbed another beer and popped it, setting it in front of him. "That's not what I wanted," the old hunter muttered, taking a sip, "but alright."

"Then what do you want?" Sam asked, gesturing to all the alcoholic beverages before them, "I've got tequila, beer, whiskey, margaritas, fruit cocktails, regular cocktails, whine, ice coolers, Purple Nurples..."

Dean made a noise. "Oooh, what's that?" he asked, and John whacked him. Sam set one in front of him, and his former brother took a sip.

Only to spit it back out. "What is this shit?" Dean asked through coughing fits. Sam smirked as Loki moved himself and Peter to the other edge near Bobby. "I'll have one, Moose!" he said cheerfully, probably a tiny bit drunk.

Sam poured him another one, and Loki downed it in one shot, a huge grin plastered on his cheeky face. "My saviour!" he sang, and turned back to helping Peter, who looked half-way through his new notes.

"What I wanted was to know where the hell you've been the last ten years!" Bobby said in a whisper. Sam leant in, eyes flashing silver and causing Bobby to pale. John, who saw this, also changed colour slightly.

"Right under your nose, Singer," he whispered, smirking. He stood straight as he was called from the other side of the bar, and went to pour another one of his classmates a straight glass of whiskey.

Loki watched the Hunters as Peter wrote the last of the notes down. "Thanks, Lo!" he told the Trickster, patting him on the back. "You and Moose are coming by for game night, right?" he asked.

The Trickster nodded. "When have we ever missed Minecraft?" he asked. Peter laughed, yelled his partings to Sam, and walked out of the bar after throwing a wad of bills on the table.

Sam picked it up seconds later. Without comment, Loki reached into Sams pocket and pulled out a huge bag of skittles. "My Precious!" he said, imitating Gollum. Sam smirked. "How do you know I didn't tamper with them?" he asked sweetly as Loki was about to pop one in his mouth.

Completely ignoring the hunters, they continued to banter, throwing insults and poking fun in the nature of true pranksters.

"Two-o-clock, target number two!" Sam sang, and the Hunters froze. They had been hunting some kind of ghost, but if there was a Trickster involved...

Ah crap.

"We going for gator in the sewer?" Loki asked, completely ignoring the hunters who were staring at them incredulously. Sam nodded seriously. "Yes, that one. The fat College student gets the Aliens, remember?" he asked rhetorically.

Loki looked contemplative. "Redeemable?" he asked. Sam shook his head. "Death it is!" Loki continued. "And the kid?"

"Redeemable," Sam replied. "So he lives, got it."

Sam looked at the time. "Shift's over, I'm clocking out!" he called to the other bartender. Morri nodded, and Sam hung his apron behind him. He jumped over the bar, landing next to Loki. "We've got a Prank to plan, my dear partner!" he said, clapping him on the back.

As he walked off, Loki shook his head. "Kali is going to kill him."

The hunters were really confused at this point. "What just happened?" Dean asked.

John and Bobby looked at each other. "Back to the motel; we have to find a way to get Sam back."

**PAGE BREAK**

It was five days later when the three hunters ran into the Trickster (Loki) again. They had done their research, and now each had a wooden stake soaked in lambs blood in their hands.

They found Loki in the gymnasium (which was bare, no hot girls or anything like that), wearing faded jeans with a white tee-shirt and a brown leather jacket. Sam was nowhere to be seen, but they knew he could be anywhere.

"Three hunters and a Trickster walk into a Gym; man it sounds like a bad joke!" Loki chuckled.

John stood in front of the blond. "Where is my son?" he growled.

Loki looked curious. "Why, on your left!" he said, pointing to Dean. John advanced, wielding his stake dangerously. "Where. Is. Sam?" he said slowly.

The blond Tricksters eyes darkened. "You have no right to call him your son, John Winchester," he said lowly, gaining the attention of Dean and Bobby. "What do you mean? He's my brother! He's Dads son!" Dean yelled.

Loki sneered. "Oh, so Daddy Dearest didn't say _why_ Sammy ran off?" he asked, "well, let me tell you then!"

John leaped towards the Trickster, who snapped his fingers and appeared behind them. They turned, and Bobby held John back. "What do ya mean?" the older hunter asked.

"Oh, only that besides that when I found him his entire right side of the body was shattered, he had damage to the lungs, and his brain was squashed on one side, he was perfectly fine to tell me that his Pops beat him bloody!"

Dean went white as a ghost. "D-dad?" he stuttered, turning to his father, "t-tell me th-that isn't true!"

"He's lying, Dean, don't listen to him!" John bellowed. Bobby held on tighter as John squirmed. "Then why are you so keen on stabbing him just now?" the gruff man asked.

Loki didn't have a splash of humour on his face when Dean turned to him. "What else did he say?" the Winchester asked. Loki walked up to him, grey-blue eyes dark. "Shall I say it in his words?" he asked. Dean nodded.

"'My father's a stupid-ass drunk who doesn't care about anything but the hunt, my brother is the Golden Boy who can get whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and I'm just here wanting the simpler things and I'm the one who's refused'." Loki repeated, word for word, even altering his voice slightly to match Sams.

Dean shook his head. "No, Sammy would never say that about me!" he insisted, although his tone said that he did believe it.

"But I did," came a new voice, and they all turned to see Sam walk in, wearing the same as Loki, except that his jacket was black.

Dean let a tear slide down his cheek. "Sammy, I have always put you first! You know that!" he sobbed. Sam went to stand beside Loki, his face still void of emotion. "I know that, Dean. But even for all of your hard work you couldn't see the difference in how we were treated if it was waved in front of you."

Somehow, John managed to break free of Bobby's hold, and before Loki could snap away, the stake was pushed right through his heart.

"NO!" Sam screamed, cocking John unconscious. Dean caught his father before he hit the ground and lay him down gently, and then watched as Sam slid on the floor to kneel beside the Trickster.

Sam pulled out the stake and rolled Loki over so that he was facing the ceiling. Dean felt uncomfortable as tears made their way freely down Sams face.

"Lo? Loki?" Sam cried, healing the wound. "Gabe?"

Dean blinked. "Gabe?" he asked Bobby quietly, and the other hunter shrugged.

"Gabriel, oh please no!" Sam sobbed, burying his head in the Tricksters chest.

What the hunters didn't know, but Sam did, was that the Stakes would never kill Gabriel due to his Archangel status, but would render him deeply unconscious until the magic from the stake made it's way out of his system, which by itself could take years without proper care.

Dean knelt beside his brother, and gently placed a hand on his back. "I... I'm sorry, Little Brother," he said. Sam shrugged his hand off. "No, you're not. You came here planning on this!" Sam hissed, his Pagan magic erupting and sending Dean flying away from him.

"Sam," Bobby said, walking forward slowly, "he's dead. You need to come with us, now."

Sam looked up, an evil smile forming as he saw John wake up and rise slowly, Dean helping him up. "He isn't dead; nothing made on earth can kill him. He's only asleep," he laughed evilly.

John smirked. "He's dead, I made sure to get his heart!" he said with malice.

Sam stuck his hand in Gabriels jacket and pulled out an odd looking blade. Bobby stared at it, wanting to study it.

The brunet sliced his palm open with the blade, and the skin around it glowed golden. "_Quietus sit, sed vacabit absque culpa cecidit sanguine_," he muttered, and squeezed his hand to let the drops fall into Gabriels mouth.

The golden glow transferred to Gabe, and the illusion of his wings covered the floor, making the hunters' eyes widen. "What the hell is he?" Dean yelled over the screeching sound that Sam recognized as an Angels voice.

The screeching stopped, and the light melted away. Gabriel moaned, and opened his eyes.

Dean, John, and Bobby were really confused at that moment. Somehow, during the little light show, the shadow of wings had manifested into a huge pair of golden ones, with six layers of feathers.

The Trickster looked at them. "Awe, come on! It takes weeks to hide them again!" he whined.

The sound of feathers made the hunters turn to see another man in the room, his blond hair styled impeccably, and his azure blue eyes shining with humour. He wore a v-neck satin shirt, with a nice pair of black skinny jeans and cowboy boots.

"Oh, Gabriel," he said in a European accent, "what have you done to yourself, Brother?" the Trickster, as the Hunters now knew him to actually be called Gabriel, snorted.

"Nice to see you too, Balthazar!"

**PART THREE**

Five years passed since the night they tried to kill Gabriel, but they hadn't known what he was until Castiel the Angel pulled Dean out of Hell.

To be perfectly honest, had John not been stupid enough to try (and fail) and make a deal with a Crossroads demon to spare Jo Harvelles life, Dean wouldn't have had to make his own deal and go to hell, breaking one of the 66 seals keeping Lucifers Cage locked.

Castiel and Dean shared a profound bond, one that not even John (with his homophobia) could break. Their souls were tied together the first time Castiel touched Dean down in hell, marking him as his own. No matter what wards were placed on Dean, no matter what Enochian sigils were engraved into Deans ribs, the angel would always be able to find him.

John was beside himself. He had always stayed clear of anyone who liked anyone of the same sex, but now his son was one and he wondered where he went wrong. Bobby had repeatedly told his that it was a natural reaction for Dean to have, having admitted he, too, found the angel very attractive, and John had lost it. But after seeing the pained expression on his sons face when he yelled at him, John decided to keep his thoughts to himself from then on.

Things had never been the same between the two of them since Dean found out about what he had done to Sam, and John, since then, had had time to think about how wrong he went with his youngest son. No matter what, he had always loved Sam. He had never meant for Sam to almost die under his fist, but it had almost happened. Hell, John remembered thinking that Sam had died in an alley way somewhere for weeks on end, and how worried Dean and Bobby were when he drank more alcohol that was normal for him.

John remembered seeing how broken Sam was when he had sunk the oak stake soaked in blood through his lovers heart, and a part of John was overjoyed. He had managed to hurt his son as his son had hurt him.

But, weeks later, when the feeling passed (after all, he had seen Gabriel rise again), he became horrified at his own thoughts.

He shouldn't want his son to suffer, but he did. Did that make him some sort of monster? Should he kill himself before he turned into one of the things they hunted?

Then Castiel showed up, and John decided to try and make things right.

It was a surprise to them all when, after a vicious Rugaru hunt, Castiel had been injured. The angel was usually so very careful that it was almost impossible for him to be injured. But there he was, his chest slashed from the top of his right shoulder all the way to his left abdomen, and bleeding profusely.

He had lost a lot of blood, but he still lived, much to Deans comfort. But what was the shocker was the midnight black wings that sprouted from his back when he was all bloody and hurt.

"They are an angels wings, and one of the only pure forms a mortal can see without being killed," Castiel had explained. John had mentioned that they had seen another angel, with the name Gabriel, only five years before.

Cas had paled dramatically.

Apparently, Gabriel the Archangel had not been seen for many millennia. Cas had only been an angel-child when he disappeared, and was presumed dead. He had never fallen, only disappeared, giving off the impression that Lucifer, his baby brother, had killed him before his fall into his Cage.

If Gabriel had been spotted, it meant he was a traitor in Heavens eyes and would be punished accordingly.

Of course, 'accordingly' to the angels meant 'Death by Toothpick'. Apparently it was a real thing, though one must consider the toothpicks being made out of the Celestial Gates just as the angel blades were. Dean had joked that it was probably a long death, and Cas, not having understood the rhetorical comment, had nodded, saying that the entire process took over two millennia to complete.

That had killed the mood spectacularly.

But none of it was important to John and his son, who had just seen Zachariah a few days ago. The angel had asked where Sam was, confusing the people in the room. When he explained that Sam was Lucifers vessel, John and Dean had quickly banished the asshole, and gotten to work trying to find Sam.

It took over a month, but Castiel had finally pinned the two down in Kansas. They had all piled into the Impala, and driven down to save Sam.

But, nothing ever goes right for the Winchesters.

**PAGE REAK**

It took three years, but Sam was now officially, in the eyes of Asgard and Heaven (if they knew Gabe was alive), Gabriels Mate.

Sam glanced at the midnight blue wings sprouting from his back. They weren't as large as Gabriels-mostly because Gabriel was an Archangel and had six layers to his golden wings-but they were meant for speed and agility. He had five layers, which had intrigued Gabriel, because only Seraphim had five layers.

His Grace, although two years old now, was still growing, and Gabriel told him it would be another century before it was fully grown. That didn't mean Sam didn't have an ungodly amount to use up, though, only that he would pass out before Gabe.

Sugar helped his Grace recharge miraculously, and Sam finally understood why the Trickster was so into sweets.

If Sam loved feeling the wind flowing through his wings as he flew, washing his wings was so much better. He couldn't reach his wings-no angel could, and many depended on their siblings to clean them out-so Gabriel was tasked with cleaning them out weekly. Sam had been washing his mates wings for years, and had always wondered how it felt for Gabe to get his wings cleaned. Well, now he knew, and he loved it.

Sitting in the giant marble bathtub with his mate, Sam flexed his wings, sending ripples of water across the formerly still water. Gabe smiled warmly, chewing on a _Snickers _bar. Sam popped a _Caramilk_ in his mouth, chewing silently. His wings were clean now, as were Gabriels, but something felt wrong to Sam.

"What's wrong?" Gabe asked lightly. Sam sighed, leaning his head against Gabriels shoulder. "I feel like something is missing," he confessed, confused. "Missing how?"

Sam sighed. "Like we've missed something important. I mean, I know the Apocalypse is happening and everything, but I don't get it; what have we missed? We've stayed out of it since it started!"

Gabe frowned. "Maybe something with Lucifer? You were his vessel, remember?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe," he mumbled, digging his nose into his mates neck affectionately. Gabriel stroked his hair, and kissed his head. "I love you," he mumbled into his hair. Sam smiled. "I love you, too," he replied.

But some things don't remain so happy.

**PAGE BREAK**

The Winchesters have some of the worst, and best, timing ever.

Sam and Gabe had been trapped in a ring of holy fire only a few hours ago, and Lucifer was the one behind that. Gabriel tried to reason with his brother, but nothing would penetrate Lucifers skull.

But when the Winchesters burst through the factory doors, Sam had just revealed his wings to Lucifer, who was so shocked he extinguished the flames without realizing it. Dean and John had gaped at Sams huge wings, and their mouths only dropped more when Lucifer fell to his knees in defeat.

He no longer had a vessel.

"Fine. Keep your world as it is. I forfeit."

With those words, Lucifer was gone, and the Winchesters and Castiel were stuck looking at Sam and his wings.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, holding onto Castiels trench coat. Gabriel, finally seeing them, smiled widely. "Castiel!" he crowed, popping over and hugging his youngest brother. Cas seemed confused, and didn't hug back.

Gabe pouted, but snapped his fingers. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" he shrieked as the christmas box was thrust into Dean and Castiels arms.

Sam flew over, glaring at John. "Why are you here?" he asked as Dean and Cas contemplated on opening the gift.

"Sammy, I'm sorry," John whispered, and Sam blinked. "You're sorry?" he asked. John nodded. "I never meant to do what I did, on both occasions."

Sam seemed to fight with himself before snapping his fingers and thrusting the golden little box into his fathers hand. "Merry christmas, Dad," he said lowly. John smiled, embracing his youngest son tightly. He then opened the box, revealing a tiny rolled up parchment. He looked to his son curiously.

"They're instructions on how to make the Colt," Sam told him.

Seeing this, Dean and Cas seemed to agree on opening their box. They slowly undid the ribbon on the long box, and lifted the lid...

Only to get a face full of magic dust.

John and Sam burst out laughing as they took in the purple hair both were sporting, along with the woman's makeup. Dean and Cas sighed, looking into the box.

They pulled out what looked like a sword. "That, dear friends, is just like that nifty demon knife you've got, only it works on everything and anything. Go nuts!" Gabriel said.

Suddenly, Dean dropped to the ground with a painful screech. Sam and Gabe understood what was happening, but Cas seemed frantic, running around with John, not understanding.

Although, when the pure white wings burst through Deans back, the expressions on the two mens faces were worth it.

"You're welcome!" Sam grinned before he and Gabriel flew away.

"GABRIEL!"


End file.
